


A Scar Away From Falling Apart

by Fernon



Series: Not Broken; Just Bent [2]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Blow Jobs, Engagement, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Public Blow Jobs, Sexting, Shameless Smut, Smut, Weddings, here it is, kind of, yall wanted a part 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-28 06:55:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20774390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fernon/pseuds/Fernon
Summary: Wonwoo doesn't do relationships, but he runs into Mingyu once again when running away from his problems.





	A Scar Away From Falling Apart

**Author's Note:**

> Here's part 2! A bit of Wonwoo's background, and a second sort of hookup with Mingyu. Also the whole texting thing is hard for me to format, so sorry it was sort of half-assed. Maybe I'll write something more like that in a future part of this fic??? Anyways, please enjoy.

Wonwoo needs coffee. It’s a Monday, he hates his life, and his ass hurts. Still. Even though it’s been a whole 48 hours since he fucked with Mingyu. He straightens his tie, checking his watch to double check that he won’t be late for work. There’s still another twenty minutes, and this place is just down the street from the office. 

The line isn’t moving, and Wonwoo is getting impatient. He should have just made coffee at home this morning, but  _ fuck _ that was so much work for a Monday morning. His phone buzzes in his pocket, and he sees a text from the group message with Soonyoung and Jihoon, and attached is a photo of a tiny silver band, on Jihoon’s finger, and Jihoon’s face looks surprised. It’s captioned ‘HAVE A GOOD DAY TO MY BELOVED FIANCE’ and followed with an array of hearts. The second message from Jihoon asks to meet up for lunch or dinner tonight. Wonwoo congratulates them and agrees to dinner, since he’d already packed himself a lunch (which had sucked making) and probably would be too wrapped up in work to really take a full lunch. 

It’s the end of the quarter, afterall, and he had to make sure billing got done, and the new advertising plans for the next quarter were set to launch and that everything was in place for a smooth transition. He had numbers to run on the launch for the new advertising campaign, and get the numbers through the accounting department, and check with the company’s budget in the finance department, and see if anything needed to be thought through. 

Just the thought of everything he had to do was stressing him out. 

His phone buzzes again, and it’s Soonoyung, sending a bunch of kissy faces. His next message lists the restaurant to meet at for dinner, at 6:30. Wonwoo tells them to be gross anywhere but in the group messages, and then the barista is calling for the next customer, and he steps up to the counter and orders. 

The day is long, and rather miserable- it rains the entire day, and nothing seems to be smooth sailing. Something didn’t add up from the last quarter’s campaign budget, and he had to wait on the accounting department to re-run the numbers and look for errors. That was at ten this morning, and it’s almost 4:30, and he had heard nothing. He checks with the designers for the next campaign for the upcoming quarter, received a phone call about something with their model having to cancel, and then the model was unavailable for another six months to shoot another ad for what they needed, and were holding impromptu auditions, to no avail. 

Currently Wonwoo is sitting in his office with his head on his desk, just waiting for the whole thing to blow up in his face, stressing out more than he needs to. There’s a knock on the door, and his personal assistant, Seungkwan, pokes his head in. The accounting department just sent the numbers back, they figured out what was wrong. They’d left out the tax from the billboards cost, and the hour that we had run the ad in Times Square.”

Wonwoo sighs in relief. At least they had figured out what had put them out another six thousand dollars than what was budgeted, and that the tax was the angry email from the billboard company. “Did they recalculate or do I need to tell them to do that too?” Wonwoo doesn’t mean to be harsh, but the stress is getting to him. 

“No, they told me they emailed the numbers to you. Any word from the design crew?” Seungkwan asks. Wonwoo shakes his head. 

“No, they’re still busy with auditions, and unfortunately, none of the editing or the proofing can be done until the ad has been shot. This puts us back at least three weeks, and we have a week until the next quarter.” Wonwoo mumbles, pulling up his email of the revised billing. “We could always run the current ads for an additional month, but that would be… a third of what we spent last quarter, which is… almost $28,000… And then the cost of launching the next campaign, which is… roughly what we spent last quarter… But it would mean less advertising this quarter-”

“You’re thinking out loud again, Wonu.” Seungkwan gently chides. Wonwoo’s mouth snaps shut. 

“Sorry. Sorry. Guess I’ll hold a meeting with the head of the company, and the head of the departments tomorrow. Please send out an email to Mr. Choi, and Mr. Yoon, and the head of the head of the company. I’m working some proposals out now, and they need to be discussed next meeting, for what to do about this advertising campaign.”

“Of course, I’m on it! Don’t stress too much, okay Wonwoo?” Seungkwan gives him a smile and hurries out. Seungkwan was the best PA. He deserved a raise. Perhaps he’d propose that to Mr. Choi at their meeting tomorrow.

Wonwoo is a whole five minutes late to dinner, and Soonyoung won’t shut up about it. He also points out the slight limp Wonwoo still has, and then asks about Mingyu. 

“He must have been good, if you let him fuck you,” Soonyoung laughs. Wonwoo rolls his eyes. 

“Can we not? He was good, yeah.” Wonwoo mumbles. 

“You’d let him do it again, wouldn’t you?” Jihoon smirks, and Wonwoo huffs. 

“Yeah, I would. But so long as I never go back to that bar, I’ll never see him again. He’s just a hook up, don’t you fucking  _ dare _ go getting any ideas.” Wonwoo glares. 

“Relax, Wonwoo, we both know you’re afraid of commitment.” Soonyoung laughs. 

But Wonwoo doesn’t. In fact, that  _ stings _ , especially in light of recent happenings. 

“Soon, that was a low blow.” Jihoon mutters, and Soonyoung seems to register what he said. 

“Shit, sorry Wonu.” Soonyoung’s face gets pink. “I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant. I just meant because of-”

“I know what you meant, Soonyoung. It was just… a little too real, considering… what you two announced today.” Wonwoo sips the sparkling water he’d ordered. 

“Speaking of our announcement,” Jihoon begins, “we were wondering if you might want to be a part of the wedding. We haven’t decided whose, but you’d be one of our best men.”

Wonwoo blinks. A wedding. A major role in a wedding. Last time he’d had a major role in the wedding- no. Nope. Not thinking about that. This isn’t about him. This is about his best friends getting married. He’d be there for them. 

“If you’re not comfortable-”

“No, I’d love to. This isn’t my day, and I’m honored that you want me to be part of your big day.” Wonwoo gives them both a smile, a genuine one, that’s big. Suddenly he realizes how important this is for the two of them, he remembers how he had felt once upon a time, when he was in love with someone, when he had plans to spend the rest of his life with someone.

“Really?!” Jihoon’s face brightens. “Wonwoo thank you so much!”

“Of course. Anything for you guys.” Wonwoo smiles.

The waiter has arrived now, to take their orders. Once they’ve left, Jihoon gives Wonwoo a look. “So, we decided that certain people would get a plus one. It’s not going to be huge, we’re just inviting our parents, grandparents, siblings. And a few of our friends, but most of them will make up the wedding party.”

“But, we’ve decided that the friends all get a plus one. Which means-”

“No, I will not be bringing anyone with me to your wedding. That’s a ridiculous question.”

Soonyoung sighs. “We’ll leave that open as a maybe. You can decide. Who knows, maybe the bartender will be a good option.” Soonyoung waggles his eyebrows at Wonwoo.

“First of all, his name is Mingyu. Second of all, he was just a hookup, I told you I’m not going to see him again, and I’m especially not going to invite him to your wedding because  _ that _ is a symbol of commitment. Third of all, do not make that face at me again, Kwon.” Wonwoo gives Soonyoung a stern look, but Soonyoung only laughs in return. 

The marketing campaign is a mess by the end of the week. Nobody in the meeting could agree on a path. Choi Seungcheol, head of the company, had said to try and rush it. Unfortunately for him, everyone involved with the design part of the campaign seemed to get sick all at once. Wonwoo finds himself stressing out, sitting at his desk and yanking on his hair, murmuring things to himself as he tried to configure an actual release date for the new campaign. 

Yoon Jeonghan, the CFO of the company, had said to let the current campaign run a few weeks over, to prepare more for the next launch. He and Seungcheol had argued, Seungcheol saying that the billing for the previous campaign was almost settled, and that adding three weeks to the campaign would create an additional wad of work for the finance department.

The board of directors had run numbers on rushing the campaign, and had offered a few donations here and there. The directors had also suggested that they go a week or two without any advertising at all, but both Wonwoo and Jeonghan had agreed that wouldn’t look good for the company. Besides, Seungcheol wouldn’t budge. He wanted it rushed. Wonwoo was about ready to just throw the entire fucking campaign out the window. Wonwoo’s stomach screamed at him, and the two bites of his caesar salad he’d gotten for lunch threatened to come back up. 

Part of his nervous reflex, his therapist had said those few years ago. Wonwoo was… admittedly a bit of a control freak. When things started going awry, and he couldn’t control a situation, it was either panic, or stress out unnecessarily. Eating wouldn’t happen for three days, sometimes, until he got a handle on his stress and fixed it. He hadn’t been to the gym in a while, perhaps he’d go tonight, to let off some stress. His therapist had suggested exercise to help him control his stress, and it worked, usually just running on the treadmill was helpful.

He also wanted to adopt a cat, since most people said that pets were really helpful emotionally, and perhaps that was a commitment he was willing to make. At least they couldn’t walk out of his life. And they provided unconditional love and support. 

Wonwoo jumps about a mile when Seungkwan knocks on the door to his office and pokes his head in. “Wonwoo, the design team has their model. They’ll begin the shoot on Monday.”

Wonwoo finds himself sighing a breath of relief. “Good. I’ll email Seungcheol and tell him. We’ll need at least a week extra for the old campaign, despite what he says. And Jeonghan was willing to add a little bit more for the billing of last campaign.” Wonwoo is already pulling up his email and typing it out.

Some sort of weight was lifted off his shoulders when Jeonghan immediately answered the email and said that he’d get started on those arrangements. Seungcheol had sent a simple ‘okay’ back, clearly not happy with the additional week of billing. Wonwoo feels a pang of nerves at that, worried that Seungcheol was pissed, but he didn’t receive an angry call, or a message demanding that he meet him up in Seungcheol’s office. 

Presumably, Seungcheol was just… disappointed that more couldn’t be done about the situation. 

Wonwoo goes the gym that night anyways, because it really had been a while since he had been, and he could do with some good cardio in his life. He swiped his card at the desk, and greeted the new woman who was working there, and hauled himself and his gym bag into the locker room. It was almost 7:30, and a Thursday, so the place was pretty dead. Wonwoo opens the door to the locker room and smacks right into someone with an ‘oof’.

Wonwoo is either about to say something angry or to apologize, when he looks up and finds himself face to face with Mingyu. Wonwoo blinks, opening his mouth to speak but finds himself unable to. “Wonwoo? Oh, I’m sorry. For running into you, or whatever. You come to this gym?” Mingyu raises an eyebrow. “Wait, you go to the gym, period? Wouldn’t have guessed.”

Wonwoo feels his face heating up, Mingyu’s comment about how skinny he was running through his head. “I- sometimes. I just like to run, is all. Sorry we’re not all muscle heads like you.” Wonwoo’s tone is a bit snippy, his nerves rising back up in his body. 

Mingyu laughs. “Well, have a good run, Wonwoo.” Mingyu winks and heads into the gym. Wonwoo’s eyes follow him the whole way. Fuck, how did he manage to turn Wonwoo’s whole brain to mush? Wonwoo shakes his head and goes into the locker room to change, shutting his bag in a locker after he’s changed, grabbing his wireless headphones and strapping his fitness watch to his arm. He walks out to the gym and stretches a bit, sparing a glance Mingyu’s way. He’s finishing up stretches, and walking over to one of the weight machines.

Wonwoo pretends to ignore him, and walks over to the treadmill. He turns his music up more and climbs on the treadmill, starting up at a fast walk, glancing every once in a while into the mirror of a wall, to look over his shoulder at Mingyu. He moves from machine to machine, doing reps, and increasing weights on a few of them, and Wonwoo pretends not to notice the way his muscles flex under his tight t-shirt, and the way his jogger sweatpants cling to the thickest parts of his thighs. 

Wonwoo swears his mouth is watering. He watches as Mingyu helps an old woman out, who dropped her water bottle as she was getting onto one of the treadmills across the gym, and how he smiles politely and bows respectfully. Wonwoo sees those perfect lips curling into a perfect, charming smile, and how his eyes crinkle just the slightest at the corners, and fuck, Mingyu could be a model with a face and a body like that, and it wasn’t fair. 

Wonwoo drops his gaze from the mirror when he sees Mingyu look his way, glancing at his watch to skip the song, and check his heart rate. A bit quicker than normal, but, Mingyu was here, afterall, so he supposes that’s self explanatory. He pumps the machine to a slight jog, and puts it on a small incline. He spares a glance at himself, watching his immaculate hair losing some shape, with the natural bounce of running. Wonwoo lets his eyes drift slightly and he sees Mingyu spotting someone at the bench press behind him. Mingyu’s eyes are on Wonwoo.

Wonwoo stares right back at the reflection of Mingyu, just for a few moments, long enough for it to be ‘lingering’ before he looks back ahead, and presses on. A few minutes of jogging, and he ups the machine into a full run, and forces his brain to focus on the problems he has instead of Mingyu. The late campaign, which was the biggest stressor at this point in time, so he concentrated on the solutions, and how he’d power through it, even if things came up that he couldn’t control. 

Then there was the wedding, and his agreement as best man. As best man, he’d be in charge of planning the bachelor party, helping choose the tuxedos, and helping with invitations and decorations and cakes, and dinners, and venues- Wonwoo is panting, panic rising in his chest. His watch vibrates on his wrist, alerting him of elevated blood pressure and unusual heart rates. Wonwoo slows the treadmill back to a fast walk, and breathes slowly. 

Jihoon and Soonyoung would assign him tasks, and let whoever they choose as the other best man, some other tasks. And it was  _ their  _ wedding, not his, so he wouldn’t be the one planning all of these tasks himself. He’d just perhaps suggest venues, or DJs, or cake shops. The bachelor party, though, would definitely be the task of himself and the other best man. This isn’t Wonwoo’s wedding. He doesn’t need to stress out. 

Then there’s his plus one. Wonwoo slows the treadmill down some more, and cautiously tiptoes towards the subject. It couldn’t hurt to have a plus one. It would spare him dancing alone, or with another person in the wedding party. That in itself could be awkward, because Soonyoung was considering making his sister a member of the wedding party, and Wonwoo was  _ not _ going to dance with a woman. Nothing against women, he just had no clue how to  _ not  _ be awkward around them.

But a date to a wedding? Would probably be pretty close to impossible to find. At least not without having some sort of commitment to them, especially since he was close with both Jihoon and Soonyoung’s families, and they’d ask questions. A one night stand does not come to a wedding, therefore this requires commitment, and commitment was  _ not  _ something Wonwoo did. Not even a little bit. Once upon a time, he’d dive headfirst into a relationship, no hesitations, no questions asked. Once upon a time, Wonwoo gave his all for love, every ounce of his energy, every ounce of his caring, and every ounce of love he had, into a relationship. 

Wonwoo feels his watch vibrating again, reminding him to take breaks, and to breath in through his nose and out through his nose. He didn’t notice the quickening of his breath. So he cranks the machine up and focuses on his feet hitting the treadmill, the whir of the belts under the heavy frame of the machine, and the sounds of his music dancing through his head. Words flow through his mind, intertwined with melodies and emotions felt by other people. 

Wonwoo is glad he doesn’t need to feel the emotions of the songs he hears. Until the song changes to something with a good beat, and lyrics about sex. Wonwoo finds his eyes wandering back to the mirror, and to Mingyu. He’s deadlifting now, probably at least a hundred pounds, and sweat is soaking the back of his t-shirt. One of the trainers at the gym is spotting him, encouraging him. Wonwoo stares at the flexing muscles in Mingyu’s arms and the exhaustion on his face. He looks fucking sexy, no matter what way you look at it. He drops the weight after a rep, and pumps a fist in the air, looking accomplished. The trainer hi-fives him, and Mingyu takes a long drink from his water. He mops the sweat off his face, just as Wonwoo missteps and has to catch himself on the arm of the treadmill, and focus back on where his feet were going. 

After a few moments, Wonwoo spares a glance back at Mingyu, who is stretching and making his way to a treadmill elsewhere in the gym for a cool off. Wonwoo zones back in on his running, and the music in his earbuds. He and Mingyu are the only ones left in the gym, aside from the two trainers, who are cleaning off equipment regularly, and watching whatever evening show is on the TV’s in the room.

Wonwoo sighs, calm washing over him, when he thinks about the solutions before him. He ignores the date thing, for now, and the underlying problems with that, and instead focuses on the positive that the campaign was working out, and his best friends were finally getting married. His watch buzzes, alerting him that he’d been working out for an hour, and that he should take a break now. Wonwoo slows to a walk again, for a quick five minute cool off, and then shuts the machine off, stretching out his legs. Mingyu is gone. Wonwoo sighs a breath of relief and heads for the locker room. He unlocks his locker and grabs his towel from the gym bag. Wonwoo turns to head for the showers only to get pinned against the lockers and kissed by a tall man. 

Wonwoo’s eyes widen in shock, until he realizes it’s Mingyu, and he melts instantly, kissing him hungrily. Mingyu’s hands are on either side of Wonwoo’s head, and Wonwoo feels his hands making their way to Mingyu’s shoulders, pulling him closer to his body. Mingyu’s skin is still slick with sweat, and parts of his hair are clinging to his forehead, damp with sweat as well. Wonwoo runs his hands through the sweaty strands, tugging a bit when Mingyu’s tongue slips into his mouth and feels around. 

Wonwoo can feel Mingyu’s body is tired, his arms trembling slightly as they shift, moving down Wonwoo’s biceps and then his sides, before slipping around Wonwoo’s waist and pulling their hips closer together. Wonwoo sighs out a little whine when Mingyu weakly rolls his hips against Wonwoo’s. It’s a teasing move, but it’s also half hearted, since Mingyu’s exhausted. Wonwoo pulls away after a few moments more, a smirk on his lips as he leans forward, his lips pausing a few inches from Mingyu’s ear. 

“Tired already, hmm?” Wonwoo practically purrs, before he nips at Mingyu’s earlobe.

“Never.” Mingyu replies breathlessly. Wonwoo smirks and lets his hands fall from Mingyu’s shoulders down the lines of his back and to his ass. His hands linger there for a moment before brushing the tops of his thighs. 

“Oh really? But you’re shaking, babe.”

“Am I? Didn’t notice.”

“You looked tired before you even left the gym earlier. This mean you’re gonna let me fuck you this time?”

“I-” Wonwoo doesn’t let Mingyu protest. Wonwoo’s hands are already slipping into the waistband of Mingyu’s joggers, and his fingertips brush along the hard line of Mingyu’s dick. Mingyu whines, and then nods. “Fuck, yeah, okay…”

Wonwoo slips his hand back out of Mingyu’s pants, eliciting a moan from Mingyu, as Wonwoo tugs Mingyu’s shirt up over his head. Wonwoo drinks in the sight of the taller man before him, the tight muscles of his body, and the sweat glistening on his skin. Wonwoo stares just a moment more before he notices Mingyu shifting a little. Wonwoo surges forward and kisses Mingyu again, fumbling for his gym bag to grab a towel from it while he does.

Mingyu can feel him fumbling so he pulls away long enough to let Wonwoo dig through his bag for a towel. Mingyu pulls a small bottle of lube from his gym bag and a condom, and Wonwoo raises an eyebrow. 

“What? You think you’re the first person I’ve hooked up with at the gym?” Mingyu laughs, and Wonwoo blinks. Just what does Mingyu get up to?

“I’m kidding. This is also my work bag, and I keep this with me for… well, like the other night. This is new.” 

Wonwoo shakes his head. “Grab your towel and go get in a shower or something, it’s less… open, there.” Wonwoo ushers Mingyu, shooing him towards the shower stalls on the other end of the locker room. Wonwoo tosses his towel onto the bench in the shower stall, and throws the curtain shut, turning the water on. Mingyu meticulously hangs his towel on a hook, and undresses slowly, hanging his clothes up, too. Wonwoo rolls his eyes and grabs Mingyu’s shoulders, tugging him back in for another frantic, hungry, kiss. Mingyu hums against Wonwoo’s lips, his hands tugging on Wonwoo’s gym shirt, pulling it up over Wonwoo’s head and tossing it aside, only breaking the kiss for that instant. 

Wonwoo pulls away to mouth at Mingyu’s neck clumsily, while Mingyu starts trying to pull his pants off, and Wonwoo moves away to remove his remaining clothing as well, reaching over to turn the water on, and Wonwoo tugs Mingyu back towards him and trails kisses down his neck, grinding his hips against Mingyu’s. Mingyu moans loudly at the sudden friction, his hands grabbing at Wonwoo’s shoulders. Wonwoo steps back a fraction of space, and lets his hand slip between them, fingertips ghosting over Mingyu’s dick. Mingyu whines this time, something high and needy, and Wonwoo feels a ghost of a smirk reappearing on his lips. 

“What happened to the Mingyu from last time we hooked up?” Wonwoo chuckles a bit, and Mingyu pouts at him. 

“Please, Wonwoo, just- fuck, I want you,” Mingyu gasps when Wonwoo starts stroking the length of his dick.

“Where’d you put that lube?” Wonwoo nips at Mingyu’s neck, letting his other hand reach down to grip Mingyu’s ass.

“Fuck, it’s- it’s in the pocket of my gym pants. So is the condom.”

“Poor planning, Mingyu.” Wonwoo removes himself completely from Mingyu, another whine escaping Mingyu’s lips, and starts searching through Mingyu’s discarded clothing. Wonwoo finds both in record time, and pours a generous amount onto his fingers, standing again and getting behind Mingyu. “How you wanna do this?”

Mingyu looks around and then shrugs. “Hit it from the back. Or I can try to ride you this time, on the bench. But I think between the narrow space of the bench and the water? That could get dangerous.”

Wonwoo laughs. “I think this is why people don’t do this in locker rooms. Should I just blow you instead?”

Mingyu snorts out a laugh, but then nods. “Yeah, take a rain check on fucking me. I’d still like to see how that goes, but perhaps a locker room isn’t the best place for this.”

“But all this lube would go to waste…” Wonwoo smirks, dropping to his knees. Mingyu watches with intent eyes as Wonwoo’s tongue darts out, just grazing along his head, making Mingyu moan loudly. Wonwoo smirks and moves in, licking a wet stripe along the underside of his dick, making Mingyu’s hips stutter, and Wonwoo looks up at him, watching the way his face shifts, as he tries to control his movements. Finally, Wonwoo wraps his mouth around Mingyu’s dick, and swallows him down?? As far as he can get it, hollowing out his cheeks and refraining from gagging when the tip of Mingyu’s dick hits the back of his throat.

Wonwoo lets one of his hands come up to cover the last few inches, and starts moving, his head bobbing as he slides up and down along Mingyu’s dick. Mingyu’s hands are grabbing at fistfuls of Wonwoo’s hair, and he’s moaning loudly. Like,  _ loudly _ , and they’re in a public locker room. Wonwoo pulls off, frowning at Mingyu. 

“Gyu,  _ hush _ .” 

Mingyu’s cheeks flush pink and he nods, his fingers tightening in Wonwoo’s half wet hair. The spray from the shower was reaching them, misting over Mingyu’s back. Wonwoo smirks again and then sucks him down once again, this time reaching up behind Mingyu and massaging his entrance. Mingyu gasps in surprise and then whines, yanking at Wonwoo’s hair. Wonwoo hums at that, pleased to see Mingyu bending under his will. He slips a finger in, slow and teasing, and Mingyu lets out a breathy muted moan, trying not to get loud. 

Wonwoo’s mouth works around Mingyu’s length, while his finger pumps in and out of Mingyu. He adds a second finger, and Wonwoo can feel the muscles in Mingyu’s legs trembling with what he can only assume is pleasure and exhaustion. He stretches Mingyu with his two fingers, making Mingyu whine quietly. He pumps in and out of Mingyu for a minute more, before he adds a third finger, fucking him while he bobs up and down on Mingyu’s dick. 

“W-Wonwoo, I-” Mingyu’s hands are tightening in his hair and his hips sort of stutter, thrusting back into Wonwoo’s throat, making Wonwoo’s eyes water. Mingyu moans when his orgasm hits, yanking on the fistfuls of Wonwoo’s hair and fucking into his throat. Wonwoo just takes it, gagging, and tears forming in the corners of his eyes, before he pulls away from Mingyu’s dick with a smirk. Mingyu’s legs are really trembling now, and his shoulders are leaning heavily against the wall, and he’s panting, his eyes closed. He looks absolutely  _ wrecked _ , and Wonwoo can’t help the smug feeling he gets knowing he’s behind that. Wonwoo removes himself from Mingyu and stands, watching as Mingyu sinks down on the bench.

“Fuck, Wonwoo, you’re so good,” Mingyu murmurs, his eyes cracking open to look at Wonwoo. 

“You alright? You looked wiped out.” Wonwoo asks. Mingyu nods, but Wonwoo doesn’t believe him. He looks about ready to pass out. 

“Mentally, I’m fucking great. Physically? I lifted too much for this today.” Mingyu laughs. Wonwoo laughs too. 

“I can see. Wash up or whatever you need to do. I’ll drive you home, you’re in no condition to be driving like this.” Wonwoo rinses off quickly, planning on an actual shower when he gets home. 

“But what about you…?” Mingyu glances down at Wonwoo, eyebrow raised. Wonwoo smirks.

“I’ll give you my number. You can repay me some other time.”

Three weeks of radio silence from Mingyu go by. He doesn’t text at all, not that it really much matters to Wonwoo. The newest campaign has kept him busy enough, pulling late nights at the office, and early morning runs to burn off some stress. Soonyoung shoots him a few messages, asking when he can meet to help plan the wedding. Wonwoo informs him everytime that his hands are tied up in this new campaign at the moment, so he is unable to meet up with him.

Perhaps its the fear talking. He has time on the weekends, but usually by then he’s so emotionally drained from the week, that he has no desire to leave his house (or his favorite old sweatpants, for that matter). But part of him is scared. He’s been through these motions once before, the motions of planning a wedding- color swatches, bakery visits, cake tastings, wine tastings, suit tailoring- Wonwoo feels like he could throw up just at the thought. 

He’s on week four, when the company says they’d like him to go to Japan for the week, to take care of some meetings for the international marketing. Wonwoo agrees, wanting nothing more than to be away from it all, even if it’s just for five days. The plane ride is gruesome, and jetlag is even worse, but Wonwoo goes exploring the city after a nap and a shower. He stops at a restaurant for dinner, and sends a photo of his meal to Soonyoung and Jihoon. They have jealous replies, and Wonwoo laughs while he eats his meal and takes photos of the city lights. 

The business side of things go smoothly, and Soonyoung and Jihoon are pestering him about ditching them for Japan, and how they absolutely  _ have _ to plan the wedding when he gets back. “Soonyoung can’t see me in my suit!” Jihoon had whined over the phone, to which Wonwoo had just rolled his eyes. 

Wonwoo visits the spa at the hotel on the third night of his trip, after he’s through with business meetings, and is digging through his suitcase for pajamas so he can shower, when his phone chimes. He picks it up off it’s spot on the bed, glancing at the contact name. 

Mingyu. 

Oh, fuck.

Wonwoo stares at his screen. Three little words. Three insignificant words from anyone else, but from Mingyu, they mean something else entirely. ‘ _ I miss you.’ _

Wonwoo scrambles to think of a reply. ‘ _ Sorry, I’m in Japan on business.’ _ Wonwoo swears. Too brusk, he shouldn’t have said-

A photo comes in after that message, and Wonwoo nearly drops his phone. Mingyu’s bare torso just creeps into the frame, but the main point of the photo is his pants. Or rather, the awful hard on in the photo. He’s got his hand down his pants, like he’s teasing it. The next message that comes in simply reads ‘ _ but I need you.’ _

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” Wonwoo mutters, already feeling the blood rushing to his groin, which is currently clad in only a towel. How long has it been since he sexted someone? Wonwoo’s eyes widen when he realizes he hasn’t done this in- five, six years? With his ex-fiance- no. No, Wonwoo wasn’t about to go there. Not when he had the most gorgeous man ever waiting on the other end of this conversation for him,  _ wanting  _ him. 

Wonwoo snaps a quick photo in the bathroom mirror, wrapped only in his town, his wet hair still clinging to him, his torso still speckled with little water droplets, and a semi barely covered by the towel. ‘ _ How much do you miss me?’ _

‘ _ Don’t tease me, Wonu.’ _ This time Mingyu’s sweatpants are discarded somewhere, and he’s got a hand wrapped around his dick. Wonwoo supposes this will be a most interesting evening in Japan.

Wonwoo arrives back from his trip, jet lagged, and miserable, with the prospect of planning a wedding. He’s grateful that he flew back on a Friday, so he has time to recoup. Soonyoung calls at some point, asking Wonwoo to come over for dinner, so they can begin discussing venues for the wedding. Wonwoo begrudgingly agrees. 

Wonwoo knocks on their door Sunday night, and Jihoon answers. “Wonwoo! Long time no see, brat.” 

Wonwoo rolls his eyes. “Shut up. Let’s get this over with.”

Jihoon raises an eyebrow. “Don’t sound so thrilled to see us. It’s been almost a month since you agreed to hang out with us, and we’re supposed to be your best friends. Wedding plans or not, you don’t have to be a miserable ass.”

“I have a valid reason to be a miserable ass. I’m jet lagged.”

“We both know that’s not why you’re being a miserable ass. You can move on, Wonwoo. Not every guy is going to treat you like-”

“Don’t. Please, Jihoon, don’t.” Wonwoo can feel that tightness in his chest again, at the thought of Jihoon mentioning his name. Therapy couldn’t erase that feeling. 

“I’m just saying. Come in, please.” Jihoon steps aside and Wonwoo steps inside, toeing his shoes off carefully and neatly. He shrugs his jacket off and hangs it gingerly, and goes into the kitchen, where Soonyoung is setting the table. 

“Wonu!” Soonyoung grins and runs over to hug him. Wonwoo hugs him, and then Soonyoung shoves the dishes into Wonwoo’s hands. “Set the table.”

Wonwoo does as he’s told, and the three of them eat dinner, and Soonyoung and Jihoon fill Wonwoo in on the last few weeks. They bring up what they’ve been brainstorming for the wedding. They finish dinner, and Jihoon promises to do dishes later. The three of them sit on the couch, and Soonyoung pulls his laptop out, setting it on Wonwoo’s lap. He opens it up, and there sit five venue pages.

“These are the best places in our budget. It’s going to be… small, obviously. Just our parents and some friends, and our siblings and stuff, we think. And the actual ceremony will just be at the little church in the suburbs, we’ve already contacted them. The date is August 3rd.” Jihoon says. Soonyoung nods. 

“These venues are within half an hour drive from the wedding, and affordable. For the reception, anyways.” Soonyoung adds. Wonwoo flips through the tabs, and the pages.

_ “Wonwoo, calm down. It’s just a place, just a room.” _

_ “I know! But, Hao, this is just as important as the ceremony, this is the part people will make memories at. It needs to be the perfect room! And we have to fit both of our whole families, not to mention all our friends!” Wonwoo looks at his fiance with bright eyes. Excitement floods his chest, and the ring on his finger glimmers, and Wonwoo feels his heart racing.  _

_ “I know, I know. Relax,” Minghao chuckles, and places a soft kiss to Wonwoo’s head. “I like the third one. At the swanky hotel.” _

_ “Really? It is beautiful. I’ll make the call then!” _

Wonwoo blinks. “Uh… well…” Wonwoo stares at the soiree building downtown, and clicks through the photos. “This is a really classy venue. But, it almost seems.... Pretentious. Snobby, if you will. I don’t know if that’s the best way to explain it. You might want to go with something a little more homey.” Wonwoo picks another tab.

_ “Minghao! Navy blue and cream, or scarlett and charcoal gray?” _

_ “I liked the violet and the sunshine yellow color. Thought we decided on that?” _

_ “They didn’t have the violet we wanted at the shop, and they complained that it wouldn’t be seasonal enough anyways. These were two of the options that were available.” Wonwoo says brightly. “There were others, too, I think an olive green and a magenta sort of shade, and a baby blue and lilac. Let me get the booklet out.” Wonwoo hurries over to his bag and grabs the catalogue out, and plops it in Minghao’s lap. Minghao leafs through it for a while while Wonwoo makes something for dinner.  _

_ “I think the navy and cream would look beautiful.” _

“The log cabin look is more homey, but is the farthest venue. Not to mention it’s up towards the mountains.I’m not sure how good of a drive that will be. Still a great option.” Wonwoo picks a third tab.

_ The church is silent, save for the ticking of the clock. It’s been three minutes since the walk down the aisle now, Wonwoo thinks, checking his watch. They’d gone through the whole wedding precession, Wonwoo the last one down the aisle, but Minghao never came out to join his side. It’s okay, it’s okay. Something probably just happened. Maybe he left something at home, or in the limo.  _

_ Hopefully not the rings.  _

_ Wonwoo’s engagement band feels heavy on his finger. Minghao hadn’t been himself lately, he was homesick, and Wonwoo knew it. Most of his family couldn’t make it to the wedding- just his parents and his older sister, and his friends from around here. He started coming home late from work, and he wouldn’t talk to Wonwoo. He stopped being weird a week before the wedding, Wonwoo thought things were fine.  _

“I like this little outdoor gazebo. On the country club grounds? And it’s got beautiful scenes for photos. I think this is my top option. Plus there’s a building for the food to be in, and in case the weather is bad.” Wonwoo picks a fourth tab.

_ “I’m sure everything is okay, he must have just forgotten something,” Wonwoo says to the crowd, who’s murmuring now. He hears words of ‘cold feet’ and ‘runaway groom.’ He can feel his chest fill with worry, and fear, and plain foolishness. It’s been 45 minutes, and people are ready to leave. Wonwoo sits on the rise at the end of the aisle, where the pastor should be standing to let him recite his vows. The index cards in the breast pocket of his tuxedo jacket are heavy, and cold.  _

_ Wonwoo watches a few people stand and shuffle out quietly. Where was Minghao? _

“Golf club is a definite no. It’s expensive and they make you cater with them, and the food isn’t good.” Wonwoo states simply, and clicks on the final tab.

_ Everyone has left, except Jihoon, Soonyoung, Minghao’s  _ very  _ confused parents, who didn’t know much of what was going on, and Wonwoo’s own parents. Wonwoo is sobbing into his hands, feeling like an idiot. He stood there for almost an hour and a half while people walked out, murmuring rumors and questioning where Minghao was. Wonwoo’s heart feels ripped in two. Months of planning. Months of love, and excitement, and hope.  _

_ Where was Minghao? _

“The garden is a beautiful place. But there’s no indoor space, in case weather is bad. I vote the country club. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go drink.” Wonwoo stands, setting the laptop on Soonyoung’s lap, and striding towards the door, his chest tight with panic, and his head spinning with memories. He’s going to throw up, or cry, or both. Or maybe neither. 

“Wonwoo, wait!” Jihoon goes after him, grabbing his wrist. “Hey, are you gonna be okay?”

“No- yes- I don’t know. I need to- I need to go, please, I need air, I need a drink, I need-”

Mingyu. Wonwoo tugs his wrist from Jihoon’s grip, and grabs his phone from his pocket, heading for his car. ‘ _ Bar open? I need a drink. Maybe you can repay me that favor.’ _

Wonwoo starts the car and hits send with trembling fingers. He turns the radio on. His phone dings.  _ ‘It’s karaoke night! Drinks are half off, come on by. Xoxo’ _

Wonwoo puts his phone down and peels out of the parking lot, heading for Mingyu’s bar. He’s opening the door before he’s barely thrown it in park, and grabs his phone and his keys. He walks in, and straight to an empty stool at the bar, not caring if it’s the only one left. He sets his phone and keys down in front of him. Mingyu spares him a glance, and it’s that big, dazzling smile of his, and he finishes up with the one customer he’s serving. 

“What’s up?”

“Vodka. Three shots.” Wonwoo slides money across the table, ignoring how Mingyu’s eyebrows shoot upward, but he pours out the three shots and takes the cash. Wonwoo throws them back before Mingyu can ask questions, and then sets his head in his hands, massaging his temples, like he can push the memories back into their dark box in the darkest corners of his mind. 

“Wonwoo, are you okay?” Mingyu asks quietly. 

“Another round of vodka and a whiskey, on the rocks. Please.”

“Wonwoo-”

“Please.” Wonwoo says quietly. Mingyu makes the drinks, and Wonwoo fishes the money out of his wallet. Wonwoo wants to cry. Wonwoo wants to throw up. Wonwoo wants to go back in time, and avoid ever meeting that bastard. Wonwoo wants to forget, even if it’s only temporary. Wonwoo wants to get fucking  _ wasted. _

He throws back the next round of vodka, and sips his whiskey. Mingyu is busy with other customers by now. His phone buzzes. It’s Soonyoung and Jihoon.

‘ _ I’m sorry we pushed you. If you don’t want to be the best man you don’t have to be.’ _

_ ‘We get it, Wonu. We’re really sorry. We know the wounds he left ran deep, and some of them aren’t healed up yet. We’re here for you. We understand if you don’t want to be best man.’ _

Wonwoo grinds his palms into his eyes, and groans, begging the tears stinging at his eyes not to fall. He swigs the rest of his whiskey. He was a bad fiance, and now he’s an even worse friend. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Jeon?” Wonwoo whispers to himself. He grabs his wallet out and waves some cash in the air, signalling for Mingyu again. He doesn’t look up, just pushes the money towards him. 

“Same as last time.”

“Wonwoo, this isn’t healthy. As a bartender, I’m not going to serve you more after this round because you’re going to be off your ass. I don’t know what’s going on, but alcohol doesn’t help.” Mingyu’s concerned voice meets his ears, and he gently pries the money from Wonwoo’s hand.

“Makes me forget. That’s all that matters now.”

“What did you do?” Mingyu tugs at Wonwoo’s hand gently, and Wonwoo looks up at him. 

“Made a mistake, a long time ago. And it fucked a lot up today. I don’t- I don’t want to talk about him.”

“Him?”

“I’m not talking about it.” Wonwoo says, and Mingyu sighs, and slides him his next round of vodka and another whiskey. 

Mingyu doesn’t serve Wonwoo another round for a while, despite Wonwoo asking. He gives in after what feels like ages to a tipsy Wonwoo, who does another three shots and has a fruity something or other cocktail. Wonwoo is focused on that tired, dizzy feeling of being drunk now, and giggling as he flirts with Mingyu.

“Wonwoo, I’m driving you home. And I’m not repaying that favor until you’re like. 90 percent sober at least. So it’s not happening tonight.” Mingyu states firmly, but Wonwoo flirts with him anyways, rather shamelessly. 

And at midnight, when Mingyu’s shift ends, he guides Wonwoo to his car, and gets him home, and gets some yogurt and pretzels into Wonwoo’s system. “Pretzels to absorb some of the alcohol, and yogurt because it’s got at least some protein in it, “ Mingyu has told his drunken fuckbuddy almost a hundred times now when he whined that he didn’t want any, and that he wanted to just go to bed. He coaxes two glasses of water into Wonwoo once the pretzels are gone. He chides Wonwoo to lay on his side, and tucks him in, setting an empty garbage can next to him. 

“I’ll stay here until you’re asleep, okay? To make sure you don’t start wandering or doing something stupid.”  **Wonwoo passes out.**

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on twitter @vernons_buffalo, and look forward to part 3!


End file.
